Echo Syndrome
by AwesomePecan2
Summary: He wants to forget, but he cannot let go. The freedom he had hoped to gain would not be his salvation and now he is forced to stop running. Still, he refuses to face his demons but at the same time he refuses to let it all slip through his fingers. Again.


**A/N: This thought came to me after I had read a few chapters of the manga **_**Clover**_** by CLAMP. I absolutely love CLAMP and most of their works, though I haven't read all of them. I had also listened to **_**Cell Block Tango**_** from the movie Chicago! and **_**Be Italian**_** by Fergie which sparked my imagination.**

**This will contain some Hetalia OC's and some of my OC's, though it's nothing to worry about. They don't play super major plot changing roles. Maybe one or two will somehow influence a character or so, but that's it.**

**And if someone could help me with the genres, that'd be just awesome.**

**Details and disclaimer in profile.**

**Oh, this story will also come with a soundtrack. Maybe it'll start in the next chapter.**

**XxXxXx**

Echo Syndrome

Chapter 1

_Can you know where the ending begins, or where the beginning ends?_

_Can you see where the road starts, or where it stops?_

_You can only guess, and I can only observe._

_But…_

_I would have gone with you…_

_If I could._

XxXxXx

As always, this building was empty and cold. The white ceiling was too high for him to see, though he had reason to doubt there was one at all. His boots echoed against the black-and-white marble floor, bouncing off the thick black-and-white pillars and back to him as he leisurely made his way to his destination; to meet with the Head of the Council.

His right arm swung at his side, his left tucked in his pants pocket, thumb hooked in his belt-loop. He raised his right hand to pinch his cigarette in between his thumb and forefinger, taking one last long, deep drag before exhaling in a languid breath. He dropped the cigarette to the pristine floor, the particles of ash scattering on its impact. The last traces of fire and smoke still burned even as he left it behind.

XxXxXx

From one to another in a different city. From that one to this one in a different world.

He snorted quietly when he came upon the giant double-doors, this time pure white but with silver designs carved into their bodies and with large, steel bar-handles.

He gestured for the two taller guards dressed head to toe in black to move aside, not bothering to show them his badge. They knew who he was. Like machines, they stepped aside stiffly, drawing up their large, long-bladed halberds to allow him passage into the Council's room. He stretched out his arms to grasp at the handles, only to stop and take a step back.

The black helmets the guards wore were shined and smooth to perfection. He could see the reflection of the long and wide hall, the giant pillars, and the floor behind him, but most importantly he could see himself reflected perfectly, as if he were looking into a mirror.

He hummed, squinted his eyes, moved his pale face closer. The guard made no move to ward him off, nor did he seem to tense in any way. If he could see the guard's masked face, it would be blank and impassive, though he would like to think he had made him uncomfortable somehow. Or perhaps grateful. It was an honor to be in his awesome presence after all.

So after he bared his teeth, picked at them with his blunt nail only for them to come away clean, and ran his fingers through his unruly silver hair in a mock attempt to make himself appear presentable, he pulled away with a smirk of self-satisfaction. He clapped the tall guard on his shoulder, saluted to the other, and turned back to the double-doors with an air of nonchalance and self-importance.

He pushed through the heavy doors with ease, entering the dark, circular room. Candelabras were spaced evenly about the walls of the room, large candles glowing with a false cheeriness and creating long shadows against the deep red walls. If he glanced up, the ceiling would be shrouded in darkness, and when he set his red eyes onto the panel of Council members before him, their beautiful faces would gaze upon him with cool bright eyes.

But then he blinked, and all of that disappeared. This room was pure white so he could not tell in what way the room took shape. Instead of sitting behind a smooth crescent oak desk, the Council of seven stood tall before him, adorned in long white robes with large hoods that hid their faces in pitch shadow, in such a way that made it seem as if they were miniature black holes waiting to grow and devour everything in their paths.

"_Prussia of the Echo Syndrome."_

"Gilbert Beilschmidt." The one in the center, a woman, announced. Gilbert smirked, cocked his head and leaned all his weight on his left leg.

"So to what do you owe the pleasure of my awesome presence?" The room was utterly still and it might as well have been uninhabited by anything or anyone. Gilbert was not deterred by their silence, preferring to think they were all merely basking in his presence.

Just as before.

"Have you an idea as to the reason of your summons." The woman asked, the highest ranking officer in the room, the Head of the Council and the sole person in the room Gilbert held any respect for. Gilbert's smirk widened and he shrugged his shoulders, the collar of his worn leather coat brushing softly against his neck.

"Because you all missed being in my awesome presence, I know. Really you guys, there's no reason to keep it a secret. Just ask and I'll let you bask around me." He laughed, the hiss-like sound reverberating all over the cold room. The other members remained still and unresponsive, while the Head raised her arm straight out at her side, dismissing them. Without protest or sound, they made their way to the back where a door was opened seemingly out of nowhere and they passed through it in a single file line. Not even their cloaks fluttered as they walked.

With a quiet hiss, the door closed, leading Gilbert to find he was left alone with the woman.

"So, Chief," he said with a smirk, addressing her with the nickname she repeatedly insisted she hated, "why the hell were they here if you were just gonna dismiss them like that?" He cocked a silver-grey brow, that smirk lighting up his face in a way that enhanced his features, whereas it would have made the features of another seem cruel and ugly.

"You know the rules, Beilschmidt. Now, the reason toward your summons." Her cool voice drifted over him, chilling his spine, causing him to become frigid with that familiar tone. Gilbert scoffed.

"_Verdammt_, woman, you know I don't work for your damn government anymore. If you expect me to do some shit that'll keep me in their fucking debts for another billion years, you can forget it! I told you I was done with that crap." And despite his respect for the General before him, never let it be said that she terrified him. He had defied her and the government's orders before in ways that should have resulted in his death, so why should her superiority and higher status intimidate him now?

Besides, he had seen and faced things much more terrifying.

"Are you quite finished yet? I had not even been given the chance to explain a thing before you opened your mouth and started shouting." She drawled, Gilbert giving her an incredulous look.

"_Tch_. So what then if it's not some government crap?" Gilbert crossed his arms over his chest, staring up blandly at the tall woman.

"I want you to look after someone."

"Do I _look_ like I'd make a suitable baby-sitter?"

"For this particular case, then yes. Though I would not say _baby-sitter_ as you would be more of a guardian of sorts. A protector, if you will." Once again, Gilbert scoffed at this.

"If its bodyguards your lookin' for then the government has bunches of those. Hell, whole squadrons, even." Gilbert narrowed his eyes, red eyes bright as he thought, cocking his head a bit. "Unless…" He could practically feel the cool smile now gracing her face.

A quiet hiss signaled a door opening on their right.

"If you would follow me, please, Mr. Beilschmidt." And since Gilbert could tell it was not a request despite her light tone and despite his reluctance to follow through with whatever plans she had for him, he followed.

XxXxXx

There was always very little breeze just after noon, something Gilbert had grown accustomed to long ago, but still found somewhat odd; though he could never really understand why he continued to let this bother him at all.

Just as Gilbert stepped out of the Marble House and onto its front steps, he took a deep breath. Then a thought struck him. He fished around in the pockets of his black coat and pants, pulled out a lighter from his pants' pocket, and a pack of cigarettes from an inside pocket of his coat. He tapped one out, placed the pack back away, and then lit it.

He took a long drag. He tilted his head back, eyes closed. He held his breath.

There was never a heavy breeze at all, if truth be told. The clouds never drifted, but they were always in a different place or shape the next day. The sun never glared down upon him, and it was always bright, warm. The birds were always singing, the trees and grass were always vibrant and green. The flowers were always in bloom, their faces gazing adoringly up at their mother.

There was never rain, either. There was never a gloomy day with threatening grey clouds looming over the horizon. The days and nights were never cold. There was never snow. There was never winter or summer or spring or autumn at all. It was just this. This and only this. Endless days of sunshine and warmth. It was beautiful. It was gorgeous. It was perfect.

Gilbert hated it all.

When his heart began to pound frantically and his head began to hurt, he let his breath go. He felt better.

"Are you done?" He sneered in a random direction, anywhere but at the woman whose name he would probably never know.

Some respect.

"Let us keep moving. We cannot waste time." With a questioning brow raised, he followed her down the massive staircase. Great. It had taken him the better part of an hour to climb _up_ the goddamn things and now, no less than fifteen minutes later, he was climbing back down and he had no idea why.

"_Stop complaining! Jeez, you're so whiny." A kind voice laughed softly at him as he gestured with his hands and arms wildly, his voice loud as he recounted some crazy bet he had lost._

Gilbert's mouth set into a thin line, his eyes becoming unfocused as he stared ahead of himself at the woman's back. He rubbed the back of his neck, pale fingers brushing against the cool chain around his neck. Once they had reached ground-level, she started down right and they kept a steady but quick pace.

As they walked, some people would move aside and greet the General with reverence, either bowing or saluting when she passed. Occasionally, there were a few who at least acknowledged his presence and nodded their heads at him, but most of them would shoot him a dirty, resentful look to which he responded with his own single-fingered salute and a cocky-ass smirk.

Truly, although he hated the place, this city was a wonder to behold. It was grand and beautiful – the kind of place one would only describe as a type of utopia. It had tall white buildings, some with spires reaching higher into the sky. In the bright sunlight, the city gleamed like diamonds and pearls. In the calm moonlight, the city glowed with an untouchable presence.

But that was on the surface. The city was beautiful, sure, and there were many great places for travelers to see and visit, but it was the people. Granted not every single person, but it was not until Gilbert had remained here a while that he began to see just exactly what was hiding under the grand surface.

The people here were mean-spirited and cruel. Men and women killed each other and fought for the stupidest of reasons. Children lied and stole. Teenagers were drunkards and drug addicts. They all did nothing but cause mayhem for those few decent people Gilbert rarely ran into.

And then there were those underground gangs. Their level of power over the city was practically equal with the level of power the government and the council held. The only thing keeping the city from being ripped out of its beautiful façade were the people like Gilbert. The people of the organization he wanted nothing to do with now.

Not that it mattered. Once this stupid little job was over, he was out of there. He had earned his freedom, at least.

Once they cleared the major city streets and passed the silver clocktower…

_The dark clock tower struck true and the loud, ominous bells tolled nine._

… Gilbert realized that the General had led him to the dome building across from the Marble House in the northwestern part of the city, the building he had never been allowed in before, despite his certain privileges.

His frown deepened as a cold feeling settled into the pit of his stomach. He had never been inside before, but he could tell now that he was being requested to do more than just a little bodyguard job. Great. Now it would take him longer to get out of the damn city.

He unconsciously reached up to run his fingers over the snake-chain that hung around his neck and sank in under his black shirt.

The Globe Sanctum came into view, the only building in the entire city that did not appear to be made of marble. He ignored the cold stares he got from the stupid little civilians and proceeded to follow the Chief up the flight of smooth granite stairs - which were thankfully not as tall - and then to the front iron gates where guards stood, again dressed head-to-toe in black.

Upon seeing their General and Head Council-woman, they became more frigid and stiff, immediately granting her access into the building. Gilbert had to scoff. If what was inside this building was so secretive and important, then one would think to place more capable and intelligent guards.

With the only trouble being them hesitating to let him in but with a quick interjection on her part, they were walking down a wide corridor, the lighting dim and the walls warm despite being made of concrete.

"All right, Chief, I've had it with the silence. Will you tell me what the hell's going on now? Is this a set-up? If I find out it's a goddamn set-up to keep me here then don't fucking think I'm gonna give in without a damn fight!" He glared hotly at her back.

"My, my, so suspicious. You never did tell me the reason that made you so mistrustful and paranoid. Did the government in your former home betray you so harshly?" Gilbert snapped his teeth, instantly dismissing the subject he absolutely refused to _ever_ broach.

"So?" He snapped. She chuckled, the pleasant sound cutting his fuse shorter.

"Do you know why this place is off limits even to you? You, who has been of greater service to us than anyone before you."

Gilbert allowed himself a brief sense of arrogant pride at her words, reminding him of the reason the people hated him so – which was totally biased, by the way. "No. Enlighten me." He mocked a curious tone, refusing to rise to her bait.

"You are fun to toy with, but I have had my fill."

Well shit.

"All right, I will."

Fucking finally!

"This place… You can call it a sanctuary. This is a place for the discarded and unwanted. Things people throw away, things with greater value than they could possibly realize. They come in many different forms; they can take on the form of gemstones, music or jewelry boxes, weapons, books… and even dolls."

Gilbert took another drag of his cigarette, noting her pause before 'dolls'. He rolled his eyes, tossing his cig to the side of the corridor they were traveling down. They arrived at the end where an elevator was open and waiting for them. He smiled in mild amusement when it began to smoothly ascend. He had actually half-expected it to rattle and shake dangerously.

"Dolls?"

"I would appreciate it if you listened to me and did not litter or smoke in my presence."

"Didn't say crap before." He retorted even as he stopped fishing around for another, not bothering to note that she did not care if he did such things while outside.

"So what's my job, Chief? You want me to take a doll home and play Secret Agent Momma and protect it from all those other jealous little bitches who want it?" He huffed out a laugh, mentally praising himself for his awesome humor.

"What I want you to protect and look after is far more valuable than a simple doll. No, this child is far more than that. When we found it, it was close to death yet it hardly looked it. So we took it in and discovered it was hardly a normal human."

… It?

"Then what is the child, if not a doll?" He was starting to wonder why he respected this woman at all, cryptic and infuriating as she was. He hated people who insisted on beating around the bush.

The elevator slowed to a stop, its elegant wrought-iron gates opening up to a strange room. With wide eyes, Gilbert stepped out onto cobblestone into what seemed to be a vast garden. There were lush trees everywhere and green, green grass. The fact that it was all inside a building oddly did not surprise him as much as it should have.

The city may have beautiful trees and grass, but they were mostly found on the sidewalks or in front of buildings as decorations. There were no parks in the city, something which he was not sure to be glad for or not in the beginning.

"Gilbert Beilschmidt, as for your final mission for me." He followed her once more, that sense of dread clenching his stomach tighter than before. "As I said I want you to look after this child. It is special and unfortunately word has quickly spread of its potential power, although we are not sure how powerful it can be or what kind of power it may hold."

She paused in both speech and movement, her words processing in Gilbert's mind even as he followed her finger in the direction she pointed. Upwards. He looked up…

Birds flew and fluttered about the large room at the very top of the building. He could see the domed ceiling was made out of golden wrought iron, old and worn, and he could see the blue sky past the gaps. Immediately, Gilbert thought, _birdcage_. But that is not what had braced him so tightly.

Atop the tallest tree, perched on the thickest branch among the leaves, with birds fluttering about the figure's head, was a boy; a boy in cream colored clothes, a boy who looked no older than thirteen, a boy with shoulder length blonde hair and a wayward curl hanging in front of his face.

A blue bird hovered in front of the boy's face for a moment before it flew down, the boy's gaze following it. It flew past Gilbert without his notice, because he only had eyes for the child in the tree. A boy with dark violet eyes filled with dull curiosity rested his eyes upon the two newcomers of his home.

… And Gilbert's heart stopped.

"_W-what are you doing?"_

"_Whoa, whoa, kid! Don't freakin' panic! Haha!"_

**XxXxXx**

**A/N: Yeah. I've been working on this instead of my other one's but it wouldn't freakin' leave me alone! I'm sorry if you're waiting for the others to update… I have no excuse for those other than writer's block for them.**

**Anyway! About this fic: (If you're a fan of CLAMP and Clover then Oh my god I love you! /shot.) If you've read Clover, then you'll see beginning (and plot maybe?) will be similar to that of Clover's but it will diverge seeing as I have barely started the book. So it's not a cross-over. And if I'm wrong and it is, then it's a mild/vague one at best.**

**If you haven't read Clover or don't know CLAMP or their work, then don't worry. You don't need to in order to follow or understand this fic.**

**Other than that, I hope you enjoy, but don't expect another update for a little while.**

**All I ask is you read and review, please!**


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